The Doll Castle
by thegoodgirldoll
Summary: An old British castle...Home to husband and wife, Nathan and Catherine...As well as a big killer and his blushing bride. Will this fairytale have a bright light waiting for the ending...Or is a 'not-so-happy' ending waiting for both parties involved?


**a\n: whoaa guys, new movie! First Chucky story posted on ! Yayy! Review please, guys. Oh, and so there's no confusion, my little paragraph spacers, (-CLR-) stand for Charles Lee Ray,lol. I'm so lame, I couldn't think of anything else. :p anywho, enjoy guys! Send me a PM or review! **

**Blessings, **

**PaintMeIntrigued**

Catherine was already nervous about residing in an old, abandoned castle. To her, it seemed eery; haunted. What human would have any business setting up house there? It was simply frightening, eerily un-touched, and distinctively dirty. Remarkably, the old building was still maintained as far as lighting and cracks in the wall were concerned, but as for cleanliness: it was a disaster. Catherine was happy about so many rooms though, and she couldn't wait to explore them. She was quite adventurous at heart, behind her childish fears. It was a dreary Wednesday evening, and Catherine was in the third room upstairs when she was faced with just that: a childish fear. Tons of them, actually. Dolls. Dolls lining the shelves, on the floor, on chairs, in wooden cribs, a dollhouse...and two dolls standing side by side at an awkward angle Catherine foolishly thought they were holding of their own accord. Before she could help herself she was walking toward the odd looking dolls. She wondered why they owner had, well, owned these two pieces of work. They didn't look collectable and Catherine had been told that's all the owner ever bought: collectables. Catherine reached out and touched the hair of the blonde doll, and since her back was toward Catherine, she didn't see the doll snigger in response. Tiffany was disgusted..why was this woman petting her? She wasn't a dog! The dolls weren't porcelain and Catherine noticed they were made in China, like every other doll. She couldn't find anything special about them. She sighed and turned away from them. It was no good to keep wondering where the odd dolls had come from to fit into the old collection. Her husband, Nathan, didn't believe any of her, 'the house is haunted,' ideas anyway, so she gave it up, and kept wondering about...he really liked the home, so she promised herself she wouldn't try _to _hard to find anything wrong with it. She despised the house. Catherine only ever despised something when she was afraid of it...and in this old castle, Catherine was afraid.

Catherine didn't want to do anything to upset her husband. He was so thrilled about this home...so much more excited than anytime she had ever seen him before. He had had his eye on the house for awhile; and when they could finally afford it, he jumped on the sale. They were moving in within a week, and Catherine had no time to assuage, let alone formulate her fear of the home that was rumored to be haunted. Catherine knew Nathan wasn't afraid of anything anyone said about the home...he knew they were just trying to spook buyers out of it, so eventually the realtor would lower the price, and give it away to whoever the lucky bidder was, (Nathan's guess was the people whom had started the rumor in the first place.) It seemed odd to Catherine anyone would want to make-up rumors about such a beautiful, old castle. It had been a castle in the late 1930's, and then made it's way to have more of a 'home' appeal during the 1940's, until the present time. She sighed and ran her hand across the crown-molding: a vibrant, glossy gold with only a few cracks in the thin sheen of paint, and a couple dozen smudges around the edges. It was nothing that couldn't be fixed up quickly and efficiently. The castle was pretty stable, all the way from the added-on kitchen, down to the gorgeous staircase circling close to the wall all the way up to the third floor, (it started directly at the bottom, right near the front entryway's door). Catherine had to admit, it looked the fairy-tale castle she dreamed of living in when she was a young girl pretending to be a blushing princess in pink...but didn't all princess' stories get worse before they got better? She stopped at the bottom of the staircase and looked up at her husband who was leaning against the railing on the second floor. Things had been hard for them the past 2 months. Nathan's father had passed away and Catherine had miscarried their first baby within the same amount of time. Even if she didn't agree with Nathan's home of choice, Catherine sure did have to agree a fresh start was mandatory for their sanity.

"Darling? Have you called the realtor yet? I have a few questions about the backyard, and the staircase."

"I was just getting ready to, love. I'll do it now before it slips my mind again."

"Thank-you." he called out before disappearing into the upstairs room.

Catherine walked into the kitchen and grabbed the phone off the receiver; an old-style dialer...how cute, yet...nonfunctional. Catherine had no idea how to use an old fashioned dialer! When she was young, her mother had tried to teach her with her grandmother's old phone she played with a good amount of her childhood years...yet she had never learned. Another childish fear Catherine had had growing up, was that her fingers would get caught when the circle of numbers slid back into place and her fingers were in the way. Happy to admit, Catherine was no longer afraid of that fear...unlike another. She glanced up at the third story bedroom. The two odd dolls in the corner were no longer their. She furrowed her eyebrows for a moment, then took in a deep breath and started dialing the realtor's number which was on a small, ripped piece of white parchment paper near the phone. Perhaps the dolls had been on the opposite side, and she had just had a temporary lapse of judgment.

-CLR-

That night laying in bed, surrounded by an empty, fresh paint-smelling room, Catherine, (thought tired to the bone), had to listen to her husband's plans for the future intently.

"You know, Cate, we should have a house-warming party. I heard the neighborhood is quite friendly, and won't mind attending even if we don't know them. They like meeting new people. I heard from Jane that everyone who moved into the little village downtown, had a house warming party."

Catherine propped herself up on her elbow, rested her head against the palm of her hand, and faced her husband.

"You know, Nathan, just because our relator said everyone's had a house-warming, doesn't mean we have to. Ofcourse she wants us to burn our cash on snacks and things. No one has owned this house in how many years? The mortgage is sky-high compared to our humble abode back in London...She's waiting for us to screw up."

"Oh, now, Cate," he soothed, pulling her into his arms. "I think it would be good for us as far as society goes...i mean, what if there are young ones running around? Say you fell pregnant now, we'd know who our child would grow up with."

Catherine smiled, although not as sad as she used to when they saw kids walking in the park, or mentioned the word, 'baby,' soon after her miscarriage. Now, they were both at the stage where they just wanted to try again. Perhaps the time just hadn't been right...maybe, this wasn't a fresh start at all...maybe this was...their start, period.

"A house-warming...first time with the house finished...completely moved in...people will be filing in late, and leaving even later...there will be no time to...um...house-warm our new bedroom."

Nathan pulled her closer.

"You know, Catherine...I always knew, I picked a smart woman." he replied, pulling her in for a kiss. She smiled.

"I'll think about the house' warming."

He turned off the lights and the both turned their backs to each other for sleep.

"And i'll think about the bedroom-warming." he added, before they both dozed off.


End file.
